


Cold Comfort

by linda92595



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/pseuds/linda92595
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Dean Winchester is a rising star in genetic bio-engineering. He works under the supervision of Nobel Medical Prize winner Dr. Zachariah Adler at Paxton-Kline Pharmaceuticals, but behind the altruistic medical trials on drugs to cure terminal diseases is a cold, dark secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dean/Castiel Dystopia Reverse Big Bang

Dean Winchester sighed as he pulled his car into its parking space in the rear of the huge white block and steel building of Paxton-Klein Pharmaceuticals. The company was on the fortune 500 up and coming list of all time successful start-ups of the twenty-first century.  Settling back the young researcher rubbed his hand over his face, closing his eyes. Dean was a Bio-Engineer with the company, and he had been absurdly grateful to be working under Doctor Zachariah Adler the department head of Research and Development.

 

Now Dean felt a tightening in his throat. He wasn’t sure if Adler was insane or he himself was. Still the scientist steeled himself opening the car door. Quickly he locked the car, leaning against the side for a moment until his hands stopped shaking.

 

The security guard seated behind his desk in the lobby nodded briefly at Dean as he walked past. Dean smiled politely. Even though he was Adler’s wunderkind new bio-engineer it didn’t pay to be rude to the hired help. You never knew who was talking to the press these days. And Dean needed the court of public opinion to be on his side, at least he would need it, and soon.

 

Pausing at the door of the lab Dean pulled his messenger bag from around his shoulders shuffling through for his id. With another sigh he swiped the card through the reader then stepped inside. The scientist stepped through the outer doors placing his bag on a bench and pulling on a white lab coat from the many hanging on hooks inside the small vestibule. Once he was suitably attired Dean picked up his messenger bag again and swiped his card once more, gaining entrance through the inner doors of the lab. He ended up in a cavernous room filled with a maze of aisles interspersed between a vast cubical city.

 

On either side of the cubicles were glass walls broken at various intervals by huge steel and Plexiglas doors leading into the actual research areas themselves. Walking down the left hand aisle Dean found his own cubical depositing his bag on the desk before pulling out his laptop and a flash drive. He rarely worked at home, and lab security was so tight that checking out with a laptop was all but impossible. Yet he was one of the favored few who bore Doctor Adler’s good will. So he had managed to write a good part of his public presentation speech and PowerPoint at home the past few weeks. Still Dean’s nerves were in high drive, and had been since Adler had told him to be ready with the presentation; that they were taking the “Angels” public in the coming weeks.

 

Taking a deep breath Dean strode purposely across the room to the largest set of glass doors in the wall. The glass was tempered, fireproof and hard to see through. Squinting Dean leaned in, his breath ghosting over the highly polished glass leaving a white mist on the pristine surface. Still he could barely make out vague amorphous shapes inside the lab. Once again his id came off his neck and he swiped the card.

 

There was no ominous swoosh of compressed air, no violent burst of light or sound; only the quiet snick of the doors unlocking and sliding open. Dean walked casually inside, still consciously aware of the not so veiled interest or envy of many of the workers seated at the cubical desks nearest the lab doors.

 

Dean walked past the tables lining the walls of the lab, the long Formica surface gleaming, clean and absolutely blameless. Microscopes, Petri dishes filled with agar and small stainless steel trays bearing surgical instruments littered the table tops along with various other detritus of the modern research lab.

 

At the midpoint of the cavernous room was a series of small work stations each one bearing a small glass and metal incubator. Inside each of the incubators was a human organ, all connected to a complex array of machinery including feeding tubes, dialysis and oxygenating equipment.

 

This was Dean’s pride and joy, the Human Organ Generation and Transplantation Project. Here Dean had put Paxton-Kline miles above any other pharmaceutical company in the world. This project might very well mean a Nobel Prize for Dean himself, and Dr. Adler was soaking up all the reflected glory he could as well. Of course Dean was Adler’s golden boy so Dean had been more than willing to go the extra mile for his mentor and boss.

 

It was the other project that Dean had spear-headed for Adler that had the younger man thoroughly terrified. When Doctor Adler had first approached Dean about the idea of genetically engineered subjects Dean had been intrigued. The Bio-engineer in him had seen the appeal of using human DNA and animal DNA to create viable transplant banks for use in medical procedures. But Dean had not been sure of taking the transplant bank to this level of completion or of creating an essentially new species of being from DNA samples taken from drug trial patients.

 

Dean walked past the last row of glass and metal incubation tanks, past the larger containers holding fully developed sets of human internal organs to a more shadowy part of the lab.

 

Farther in the back of the room, as far away from the double glass doors and the more mundane area of the lab as possible the scientist could just make out the tall, Plexiglas cylinders reaching from the floor to the ceiling. Each Plexiglas container was filled with opaque blue fluid, bubbling gently at the top of the tube.

 

Long umbilical tubes stretched from the sealed gaskets at the tops of the cylinder spiraling downwards. Each tube was attached to a lone figure occupying the incubation tank. The six figures stood in silent sentinel, bodies relaxed in sleep.

 

All six specimens were objectively male in appearance. Also by appearance all the specimens were adults ranging in age from the early thirties to mid-forties. Only Dean knew that the specimens were eighteen months to twenty-four months old.

 

At the base of each cylinder was a metal footing and each of the metal rims bore a simple aluminum plaque engraved with a name. Dean approached the first cylinder containing a broad shouldered figure of what appeared to be a middle-aged man. He was about the same height as the scientist, with slightly longish dark brown hair shot through with thin threads of gray at the temple, and a full beard also shot through with gray. He was the first, the oldest of the “Angels.”

 

Dean shuddered and sighed as he surveyed the figure. His eyes were closed and Dean wondered if the creature would have the same familiar hazel eyes as the man he bore such a striking resemblance too.  Dean glanced down at the plaque and the heavily engraved name…Michael.

 

Leaning in Dean studied the face, lax in repose, then suddenly the figure twitched, hand slapping out at the side of the tank. Dean let out a gasp, jerking back then his shoulders sagged as he chuckled quietly to himself, “God I hate it when these things to that,” he hissed.

 

Carefully he walked around the tank tracing the musculature of the creatures back pausing as his eyes swept over the umbilicus attached at his neck, a dark blue fluid comprised of human blood and a nutrient rich glucose feeding into the “Angels” body.

 

Dean stopped as he reached the rear of the cylinder, behind “Michael” as he observed the angel in all his glory. Tightly pressed against the Plexiglas were two large appendages…soft dark brown feathers floating in the pale blue amniotic fluid.  Dean’s eyes traveled across the well-muscled back to the shoulder blades and the thick knobs of bone protruding from heavy ridges of muscle. The bones swept upward into a wide arch that, when fully extended would comprise the upper curve of the wing.

The angel’s skin was tough along the back, thicker than human skin and the flesh melded into soft down along the connective tissue then into fully fletched wings. Michael’s wings were the same dark color as his hair. And folded as they were in the cylinder it was hard to approximate their full span, but Dean knew that they were at least fifteen feet across, strong enough to lift a full grown man.

 

Slowly Dean stepped around to the front of the incubation tank again. He surveyed Michael’s chest, fully human except that he had no visible nipples or belly button. He would however, have a small navel on the back of his neck.

 

Then Dean’s eyes dipped down to the most obvious and, to him personally, most disturbing difference between the angels and human males. While all six figures had a rudimentary external penis, it was smaller than usual. Dean knew they also possessed a cloacae, a single orifice for reproduction and elimination. That resulted from the avian DNA Dean had spliced into the human DNA he collected from his drug trial participants. As genetically engineered hybrids they were all sterile anyway, so it didn’t matter. Still it was disconcerting that the angels had very little in the way of external genitalia.

 

Moving away from the first tank Dean walked over to the second. The figure inside was a tall, middle-aged male, maybe forty with shortish blond hair and fair skin. The wings clearly visible over his shoulders were soft golden brown, dappled with darker colors. Very clear evidence of the Golden Eagle genes Dean had spliced into his human DNA. The plaque on the bottom of his tank read Lucifer.

 

The third tank held a shorter more compact form named Gabriel. The fourth a tall, slender black male with dark brown, red tinged plumes bearing the name Raphael. The fifth figure was also black but taller and more bulky in build also with dark brown feathers. The plaque beneath him said Uriel.

 

And lastly Dean took a deep breath stepping close to the final tank. The figure inside was slender, to the point of being thin, narrow shoulders and narrow hips with soft tousled brown hair falling over his eyes. He was of medium height, slightly smaller than Dean, and the scientist closed his eyes pressing his palms against the cold glass of the cylinder. The wings curled behind this last figure were an odd soft white dappled with darker grays. He was the only one whose wings were a different color than his hair. It was odd to Dean but that didn’t detract from the angel’s over all attractiveness. Of course, that was a result of his human donor’s DNA.

 

Taking a step back Dean glanced down at the plaque adorning the tank, Castiel it read. Dean sighed it had been Adler’s idea to name them all after real Angels. Still Dean let a smile tug at the corner of his lips, “Well…Cas I can’t wait to meet you. I hope…well, I just…hope.”

Quickly and efficiently Dean checked the log books nestled on a desk at the rear of the room. Security has been through at Twelve o’clock am and again at three o’clock this morning. Nothing out of the ordinary showed up. He was so absorbed in reading the logs that the scientist didn’t hear the solitary figure stepping out of the shadows behind. A hand fell on his shoulder and Dean gasped.

 

Whirling he brought the log book up ready to strike out only to be met with the broad smiling figure of Doctor Zachariah Adler himself. A long shuddering sigh trembled from the younger man’s lips.

 

“Getting twitchy?” Adler asked a smarmy grin painted on his face. Dean winced.

 

“Yeah, I’m really anxious about this project. We used some pretty heavy duty genetic engineering on these guys. The public…”

 

“The public can kiss my ass, Deano.”

 

Dean didn’t bother telling the older man how much he hated that nickname. Adler wouldn’t have cared anyway.  In the meantime his boss had turned away from the scientist leaning against the cylinder bearing Castiel. “We’re decanting tomorrow.”

 

“What? I thought we were going to let them develop a little longer. Cas…erh, Castiel has only been in the tank eighteen months.”

 

“He’s fully developed. I ran the images on the CAT machine. His lungs are fully functional. So we decant tomorrow and start getting them ready to go. The psych team says that they should learn very quickly since they have fully developed adult brains. We get them walking, talking and potty trained this week and go public next week. Did you get your presentation ready?”

 

Adler’s voice was carefully neutral but Dean knew the other man. Adler was never casual about anything, and the shrewd look on his face betrayed him to the younger man’s eyes. “Ahh, yeah,” Dean stuttered, “Yeah I finished it last night. I’m good to go.”

 

“Excellent,” Adler said clapping a big, sweaty palm on the scientist’s shoulder, “Good man. I knew I could count on you Dean. This is it. You’re playing with the big boys now.”

 

&&&&&&

 

The audience was packed and Dean felt the panic slowly rising deep inside him. He swallowed hard. Doctor Alder was seated on the dais that had been erected mid-stage on the far side of the lobby of the Paxton-Klein building. Two long tables ran the length of the wall opposite the security desk draped in gleaming white cloths and various canapés and Hors D’oeuvres sat interspersed with punch bowls and towers of glittering champagne flutes surrounding the champagne fountain set in the middle of it all.

 

On each side of Adler were three vacant chairs, and Dean cast a glance at the six figures lurking in the dim lights behind him. Adler himself was smiling broadly staring out at the audience with a benevolent glare on his face, and Dean was reminded of nothing less that the Wizard of Oz, great and powerful wizard that he was until someone got a good look at the pathetic scared little man behind the curtain.

 

And God didn’t Dean hoped that this was more than just smoke and mirrors. These ‘men’ were supposed to be the answer to the urgent need for organs to transplant. They were living proof that the genetically engineered organs carefully created by Dean in their sleek and shiny incubators were safe for use. That no one need suffer and die for lack of a donor any more. What the wings were for he couldn’t say…except as a monument to Doctor Adler’s hubris. Not only could Dean craft perfect, usable organs but entire human organ systems that would function perfectly especially since these strange and alien men functioned normally.

 

The droning of voices cut through Dean’s reverie like a knife. He sucked in a breath staring at the six figures all dressed in casual business attire. Castiel was standing at the back of the line and Dean eased around the other men coming to stand close beside the smaller man. Castiel glanced at him; head cocked a tiny smile playing over his full lips.

 

"Hello, Dean,” the ‘angel’ said. Dean shivered a flush spreading over his cheeks and Castiel raised a hand stroking one fingertip down the taller man’s cheek.

 

“Uhh, Cas…” Dean said clearing his throat, “What’d we say about personal space.”

 

Quickly Castiel stepped back, “My apologies, Dean.”

 

Somehow in the short trip from the lab to the lobby Castiel has managed to knock is tie askew, and Dean snorted. Leaning forward he carefully tugged at the other man’s white button down shirt, straightening the collar and buttoning the top button. Then he carefully pulled the tie around smoothing the thin strip of blue silk into some semblance of propriety before tugging the knot up to Castiel’s chin. The angel blinked and Dean found himself mesmerized by the other man’s blue, blue eyes.

 

From out on the stage Dean can hear Doctor Adler’s sonorous voice droning on and on. Then a slight, to Dean’s ear, uneasy ripple of applause. Finally, Dean heard his own name. Sucking in a deep breath the scientist pushed Castiel into line with the other ‘angels’ then move past the line of security guards through the curtains onto the raised platform acting as the stage. He moved quickly and sedately across the stage in spite of the fact that his hands were shaking smiled at Adler, shaking his hand and turning to face the audience as the older man claps him on the shoulder, “The man of the hour, folks.”

 

And just like that some unseen cog in his brain began to turn, and before he was even aware Dean is talking going through his spiel, but it becomes something less than the schmoozing, slick con-job he had thought it would be.

 

It becomes an in-depth discussion of the desperate nature of drug trials and transplantation patient needs. It becomes catharsis of the worst and best kind, and at the end Dean is shaking a bit. His final words ring throughout the lobby of the building, “And as a means of proving that these genetically  engineered organ systems are safe, viable alternatives to traditional organ donors we here at Paxton-Klein created living breathing test subjects, carefully genetically engineered themselves using organs and flesh created in incubation tanks.

 

The curtains part behind him and Adler turns beaming as the six angels walk onto the stage. There’s a harsh concerted gasp from the crowded them the rumble of a multitude of voices raised in shock and outrage. Dean casts a quick glance at the rows of spectators, catching sight of a figure he had not seen before, flinching.

 

There in the front row is the tall, lanky form of Dean’s younger brother, Sam. And he is looking at his older brother with a kind of wide-eyed shock and awe that makes Dean’s palms sweat.

Dean watches Sam’s face as Adler introduces the Angels one by one until the last, and smallest of the six figures steps onto the stage. Then all traces of awe and wonder fade from his younger sibling’s features and all Dean can see is the grim line of Sam’s mouth drawn tight in barely suppressed outrage.

 

As his speech draws to a close Adler comes to stand behind Dean at the podium. One by one the older man waves the ‘angels’ forward until, at last, Castiel is standing beside both men. From somewhere at the back of the room a loud pop is heard and the smaller figure startles, wings flapping wildly as he back away.

 

There is another burst of muttering from the crowd as Adler quickly seizes Castiel by the arm, hustling him back to his seat. Dean glares at the audience then quietly sums up his presentation, before moving across the stage.  Now Adler looks annoyed but he recovers quickly sidling up to the microphone and shooting the assembled throng a smarmy grin. “That concludes the official presentation tonight folks. Why don’t you enjoy some champagne or cocktails and Doctor Winchester and myself will circulate among you answering a few questions shortly.

Reluctantly Dean watches as Castiel and the others are hustled back to the “green room” which is more like a holding cell despite the cushy furniture and table laden with food and beverages. None of the angels were permitted to drink alcohol, but Dean did notice they had a fondness for red meat and sugar.

 

When Dean got to the bottom of the few steps leading up to the stage a tall figure was lurking in the shadows just beyond the staircase. He pulled to a halt when he saw the lanky form of Sam leaning against the wall just out of the line of sight of the audience. Frowning Sam raised a hand beckoning the scientist over. Dean steeled himself visibly before turning to his younger brother forcing a smile onto his face.

 

Sam, however, was having none of it. He rounded on Dean with a sudden fury that startled the older man. “How could you!” Sam hissed, and Dean caught him by the elbow tugging as gently but insistently as he could. Sam shook his hand off, “Don’t! I can’t believe you Dean. How could you do this?"

 

“How could I not, Sammy?” Dean said and the raw anguish in his voice startled his younger brother into quiet. Sam pulled back looking uncertain, then the fury took over and Dean could see the walls slamming up.

 

“I don’t care how much that…thing has his face. It’ll never be him, Dean.”

 

“Cas is not a thing, Sam. He’s a living breathing person, just like you and me.” Dean said keeping his tone carefully neutral, but Sam was livid. Shaking with rage he stepped back.

 

“Oh hell no, Dean. Did those two big appendages on his back somehow escape your notice? He may be living and breathing, but don’t go kidding yourself. He’s nowhere near human.”

 

“Ninety-eight percent of his DNA is human.”

 

“Oh God! Dean, do you think this is what he would have wanted? When you stole his genetic material to make that abomination, did you ever stop to think what Jimmy would have wanted?”

 

“And what about what I wanted, Sam.” Dean snapped shoving his brother away, knocking him off balance and gaining some measure of satisfaction in watching the long limbs flail. “I lost my happiness, and I saw a chance…”

 

“A chance for what? No matter whose face that thing has it’ll never be him. James Novak is dead, Dean. Okay…the man you loved for so long died two years ago. And that monster with his face will never be your lover or my friend.”

&&&&&&

 

 

As Sam turned walking across the lobby to the door Dean watched in silence. Then he quickly turned toward the corridor leading back to the large conference room set up to hold the ‘angels’ until they could be transported back to the lab. Flashing his ID at the security guards standing sentinel outside the doors he pushed inside catching sight of Doctor Adler waling among the silent forms of the six genetically engineered beings. Alder was smiling broadly, but pulled to a halt. The ‘angels’ were staring at the m an indifferently, and if Adler thought that they were cowed he had another think coming. Dean could feel the resentment coming off them in waves.

 

Castiel was seated a short distance away from the others silently watching as Michael and then Lucifer paced a few steps around the older human. The smile on his face faltered a bit then he puffed up his chest.

 

“Well, gentlemen,” Adler said waving at the five figures, “I think it is time that you get out and socialize a bit.”

 

Dean glared, “Doctor Adler, what are you talking about. We need to make sure that they are fine before they get out in the public. We don’t anything about how they will react. The only socialization they’ve had is in the lab, under controlled circumstance.”

 

Alder frowned waving the younger man away. “Look Dean, I know that you feel that this is your project…”

 

“Maybe, because it is my project. I spearheaded, I did the research and I did the actual genetic manipulations.”

 

Now the older man merely looked annoyed, “Be that as it may, Doctor Winchester. These test subjects are the property of Paxton-Klein, and as such I have final say over their disposition.”

Adler sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose between this thumb and forefinger. “But believe me, Dean…I do understand about Castiel. I understand all about Castiel, including whose genetic samples you used for the human base. It would be a shame if you could not be involved in this project because your objectivity suffered. Now wouldn’t that be a shame, Dean?”

 

Suddenly Dean felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach. Could he face being locked out of the project, never to see Castiel again? Although the angel barely knew Dean he still couldn’t help but see someone else each time he looked into Castiel’s eyes. And Adler knew that, damn the smug bastard. He knew who Dean had chosen as a donor for the final angel’s DNA and knew how to use that information to the best advantage.

Shaking his head Dean looked away, “Where do you plan on taking them, Doctor?”

 

Now Adler smiled, “Well, I thought that I might start making the lecture circuit with some of the boys here. Maybe the older ones, but Castiel.  He’s not ready…I mean we did take him out of the tank a bit early. I thought maybe he might need some private…tutoring, Dean. Maybe you could take him somewhere, you know… get him socialized on a more _personal_ level.”

 

Dean raised a shaking hand to his forehead wiping at his brow, then scrubbing his fingers over his mouth, “Yeah maybe…that might be alright.”

 

&&&&&&

 

 

A solitary figure stood just inside the glass and steel double doors leading out of the lobby of Paxton-Klein. A large van was sitting in the loading zone two armed guards stationed to the front and rear of the vehicle. Castiel watched silently as Doctor Adler led his ‘brothers’ away.

 

The five older angels were dressed simply in denim jeans and plain blue of white chambray work shirts. The youngest of the group reflected that the clothing made them look like prisoners in shows he had seen on television. He made a mental note to ask Dean why this was, and why he was not among the men being taken on the publicity tour which the elder doctor had briefed them on that morning.

 

A hand fell on his shoulder causing the angel to flinch and whirl, hissing under his breath. Dean jumped back, making a vague gesture between the two of them, “Whoa, Cas…don’t get your panties in a twist.”

 

Cocking his head Castiel frowned, “I am not wearing panties. I believe that the lab tech who provided our clothing said my underwear were “boxers?”

 

Laughing Dean pushed gently against the smaller figure’s shoulder guiding him into turning away from the door. There was a swoosh of displaced air, and the tip of one white and gray wing swept around brushing against Dean’s shoulder. The scientist paused unsure if the angel had done it purposely or not.

 

“So uhh, Cas.”

 

“Why do you call me that? Doctor Adler always calls me Castiel.”

 

Dean chuckled, “Habit I guess. I was used to calling Jimmy…you know what if you don’t like it I can call you Castiel.”

 

With a puzzled look the angel shrugged, “I think you have the right to call me whatever you please. You made me, and all the others. I belong to you.”

 

Now Dean frowned, “You don’t belong to anyone. You’re your own person…”

 

“That’s not what Doctor Adler says. Obedience in all things is absolutely necessary.”

 

“Screw Adler, Cas. I didn’t make you to be a mindless slave.”

 

“So I can just walk out that door? At any time?” Castiel said leaning against the wall, his wings gently sweeping the cold marble tiles. He shuddered. Dean took a deep breath.

 

“Well, that might be a little problematic.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” The angel said closing his eyes. Dean leaned forward brushing the tips of his fingers down the smaller man’s cheek. Castiel opened his eyes quickly staring, unblinking, into the scientist’s face. Dean abruptly stepped back.

 

“Zach has your best interest at heart.” Dean said lamely, but Castiel held up a hand.

 

“Dean, even you don’t believe that. Doctor Adler has Doctor Adler’s best interest at heart. I figure in there somewhere between an interesting science experiment; and, what was it the guard said, a ‘Dog and Pony show’?”

 

Dean chuckled again, letting his eyes drop closed for a moment. He could hear Castiel shuffling, the scrape of his soft soled sneakers over the floor, the brushing of his wings against the wall tiles. The angel signed softly his breath whispering over Dean’s skin, and the scientist realized that he had moved close enough to almost be brushing up against Dean’s chest, “Cas…personal space.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel carefully took one noticeably large step back, “Why didn’t I go with the others?”

 

“Well, we put you in the incubation tanks last, and took out at the same time as the others. Zach thought that you might not be ready for the extensive interaction that comes with the publicity tour. He thought, and I think, that you might benefit from some one on one time with another human.”

Cocking his head a tiny smile played over the angel’s lips, “But I’m not human.”

 

“You’re ninety-eight percent human.” Dean added with a grin. And Castiel laughed startling the other man.

 

“And that _one on one_ tutoring would it be with you?”

 

Dean wasn’t sure how the angel, who had no concept of human sexuality, could make the phrase ‘one on one’ sound so dirty but he did. Blushing Dean cleared his throat, swallowing hard, “Uhhh, yeah.”

 

Turning the scientist motioned the angel to follow him. Castiel tagged along just behind the human until they reached the doors to the parking lot. Glancing at the guard the angel paused. When the man showed no signs of drawing his weapon or shooting either of them Castiel followed Dean out the door.

 

When they had reached the car in Dean’s spot the angel cast a sideways glance at the scientist. Walking around the vehicle Castiel smiled, “This automobile is certainly different from most of the ones I have seen on television or in the parking structure.”

 

 Dean grinned at him, “Yeah, the old girl is a classic. And it’s a damned good thing too. I can’t see us getting your wings inside a Prius or some damned thing like that. I thought we could head on out to my place in Venice Beach. You know, let you see some California living first hand. I have a really nice little bungalow, had it for years now.  I’m gonna invite my brother and his wife Jessica over for a barbeque, you think like that?”

 

“I really don’t have a frame of reference for that kind of thing. All I’ve ever known is the lab or the living quarters at the building. I was really disappointed when Doctor Adler said that I was not going on the publicity tour with the others. Why am I going with you, Dean? Really?”

 

Now Dean looked annoyed. He stalked around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door. With a brusque gesture he motioned Castiel inside. The angel bent down glancing at the seat then carefully tucked his left wing over his elbow and scooted inside. It took a little twisting and turning, and some muttered cursing but finally the angel managed to get himself seated facing somewhat forward with his wings tucked in close to his sides.

 

Quickly Dean walked around the front of the car and settled behind the steering wheel, casting a quick glance at his passenger. “Don’t worry, Cas. It’s not a long drive, and we should miss most of rush hour traffic.”

Forty-five minutes later and Dean was fuming. He was uttering a constant stream of curses at other drivers as he swerved in and out of traffic that was nearly at a standstill, maneuvering the big Chevrolet with a skill that the angel admired even as he barely understood what was happening around them.

 

Finally, the big car settled behind four lanes of solid glittering steel and chrome. Castiel cast a quick glance at the man beside him breath heaving in a sigh, “Dean?”

 

“Yeah,” the scientist said trying vainly to control his tone of voice. Finally, he looked over at Castiel, “Yeah, Cas what is it?”

 

“Why do you call it rush hour if the vehicles are barely moving?”

 

Blinking Dean shrugged, the he grinned tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Leaning back against the seat the scientist closed his eyes breath hitching in one long sigh before he shrugged, “You know Cas I always wondered that myself. It’s just a little bit farther I promise. When we get to the house it’ll be dark enough that the neighbors won’t get a good look at you. You’ll have to stay inside for a couple of days just until Zach gets the others on the news, then we’ll get you out a bit. Let you check out what an ordinary life is like.”

 

“Do you think I can ever have an ordinary life?” Castiel asked cocking his head, in that totally endearing way that was really beginning to get to Dean.

 

“I don’t know. Honestly you weren’t meant to have an average, ordinary life. You were created as a marketing tool; you know to sell transplant organs.”

 

“Yes, I know. Doctor Adler was very plain on that point. Why did he let me come with you? Is it a reward for something?”

 

Dean flinched. “Yeah, Cas, it’s a reward.” He said. He just neglected to say who it was a reward for.  But Dean had known from the first time he had seen that shrewd, appraising gleam in the older man’s eyes when he looked at Castiel in the incubation tank. Adler had to have recognized whose DNA Dean had used for the final angel. Still Adler had let it slide, and now here Dean was sitting with his reward for being a good lapdog, for serving his master.

 

Well, Dean certainly planned on taking full advantage of Adler’s largess while he had the chance. He’d keep Castiel with him, watch the publicity tour, see how things went and hope, maybe even pray, that good old Zach would be so dizzy with glee at their success that he would forget about Castiel. And the angel could find a place in Dean’s life, just as his predecessor before him.

 

And maybe for just one damned time things would work out for Dean, he’d get his second chance at happiness.

 

An hour later found Dean standing behind the kitchen counter hands deep in a bowl of ground beef ready to mix his famous burger seasonings in when his phone range from the living room. Castiel was perched, and Dean shuddered when he thought of it that way on a barstool watching the other man work at preparing dinner.

 

Wiping his fingers on a kitchen towel the scientist motioned Castiel into the kitchen, “Hey Cas do you think you could mix that little bowl of salt and stuff into the meat so I can get the grill going? I thought I would introduce you to the joys of the Bacon Cheeseburger.”

 

Nodding the angel slid off the stool and wandered into the room. Quietly he looked down at the bowl of red meat then at the small glass bowl holding spices. Sniffing at the smaller bowl he frowned, but Dean smiled encouragingly as he ran into the living area to grab his phone.

 

Sam’s voice was on the other end and jumped right into a conversation without even letting Dean get a greeting in, “Hey Dean. Have you seen the news?”

 

“Uh, no. Hello Sammy.”

 

Even over the phone Dean could see Sam’s bitchface and he silently added another tally to his long standing score, “Dean cut it out. You need to turn on Channel Five; the news is on now and your buddy Adler is all over the place.”

 

“Really?” Dean said with glee. “They made it on the news already!”

 

Quickly he leaned over the back of the sofa snagging the remote off the table. The TV flared into life, and there at the Channel Five news desk sat Doctor Zachariah Adler with the five other angels standing beside him. Dean could make out the faces of Michael and Raphael, with the others huddled in a small cluster to the rear. Lucifer looked sullen, and for a brief moment Dean felt a small stab of fear deep in his gut, but Sam’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.

 

“Where’s the other one, Dean?”

 

“What other one?” Dean asked and Sam snorted on the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath Dean said, “Cas is here with me.”

 

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing Dean, but please reconsider.”

“Sammy, everything is fine. I got it all under control, okay?”

 

Now Sam sounded angry his voice rising stridently, “Don’t do this to yourself, Dean. It’s not right. I tried to warn you, and you’re only gonna end up getting hurt.”

 

“Jeeze, Sam, if they looked up the definition of wet blanket in the dictionary there’d be a picture of you beside it.”

 

“I’m warning you, Dean. Whatever you thought you were going to get out using _his_ DNA for this little _project_ it isn’t going to work out the way you think.” Sam sounded tired, and Dean flinched guiltily, in fact his brother sounded downright exhausted. Still Sam muddled onward, “Whatever comfort you get out of Castiel, it’s all an illusion. Nothing but cold comfort because he’ll never be Jimmy.”

 

Dean frowned, “Whatever dude, what I get is for me to decide. Cold comfort is sometimes better than none at all.”

 

Quickly Dean pushed the button to end the call cradling the phone in the palm of one hand. Finally he rose turning back to the kitchen. Castiel was still standing beside the counter when Dean walked into the room. The angel whirled and Dean was disgusted to note that he was eating raw hamburger. Barking out a curse Dean crossed the room grabbing the angel by the hand, “No, Cas. You don’t eat it raw. I’ve got to cook it first.”

 

“It tastes good to me.”

 

“No, we don’t eat raw meat.” Dean said slapping at Castiel’s hand, knocking the scraps of meat clinging to the angel’s fingers into the floor.

 

Motioning the angel out the patio doors to the backyard Dean settled the tray of hamburger patties on the table then moved to the grill. The charcoal was glowing red embers, perfect for the meat and the scientist chuckled with glee, “Alright Cas, step one to the perfect bacon cheeseburger…good coals. See how they are just a little red under the ash?”

 

Castiel looked down at the grill nodding gravely as if every word that Dean said was gospel. “Okay,” he said uncertainly, “Good coals.”

 

“Yeah, here.”

 

Backing away the angel ran into the fence then cringed away at the sound of a dog barking. Hissing Castiel jerked back wings flared in anger. Dean looked up grinning and held up a hand, “Oh, don’t get all riled up. That’s just Mrs. Gleeson’s dog. Chibi go away, girl.”

 

Dean moved to the fence as Castiel watched wings quivering in righteous anger. The angel snorted as the little animal raced around the fence yipping at Dean with a malicious look on her face. Dean waved a hand, “Shoo…get lost you little bitch.”

 

“She doesn’t seem to like you any more than she likes me. I thought I might have frightened her, but she just seems…antisocial?”

 

Chuckling Dean shrugged, “She doesn’t like anyone, including Mrs. Gleeson. Honestly I don’t know what some women see in those foo-foo little mutts. I mean, if you’re gonna own a dog get shepherd or a pit-bull or maybe a mastiff…you know a Dog.”

 

After they had eaten and cleaned the dishes up, storing away the food; Dean and Castiel sat in deck chairs beside the fire pit drinking wine. The night had grown considerably cooler and the scientist had fished the last remaining logs from his winter firewood bundle out from under the deck, building a crackling blaze. The angel settled beside the fire pit, the warm red and gold of the flames painting him in rich yellow light. Dean sighed, and Castiel glanced up smiling, “The fire is very warm, or maybe the wine makes it feels warmer.”

 

Dean waved expansively raining droplets of wine onto the deck. He laughed, “It’s your metabolism. You guys tend to run a little hotter than humans, and your metabolism is higher, you know because of the avian DNA.”

 

Shuffling in his seat Dean rose coming to stand behind the angel. Carefully he stroked a hand down Castiel’s arm, settling on his wrist. Taking the angel’s hand Dean pulled him to his feet. Turning so that they were face to face Dean stroked his fingertips over Castiel’s cheek. The angel flinched back, confused, but Dean pulled him around until they were standing chest to chest. Castiel swallowed hard, “Doesn’t this violate your personal space rule?”

 

“Not tonight, Cas.”

 

Shivering the angel frowned holding up a hand pushing at Dean’s chest but the slightly larger man simple grasped his wrist pulling him in closer, “Tonight you get to be all up in my space,  Cas. I want you too.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Castiel began but Dean raised a hand brushing the other man’s lips with his fingers.

“Yes, you do. I know you’re not stupid, and I know what kind of training you’ve had. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

 

Castiel stepped back, “Dean I didn’t say that I didn’t know what you’re doing. I just said I don’t understand why you’re doing it.”

 

Closing his eyes Dean said, “Because you’re beautiful. When I look at you I see everything I’ve ever wanted.”

 

“Because all humans want a lover who’s not human, who is an abomination to some?”

 

“Who’s the best of two worlds.” Dean added. “Don’t Cas, just let me touch you. I’ll make you understand.”

 

Quickly he stepped forward bringing his thumb to rest against the smaller figures lips. Castiel nipped at the digit playfully and Dean grinned at him. Sliding his hand down he gripped the angel’s chin tilting his head back just the couple of inches he need then leaned in a took Castiel’s mouth in a deep kiss. The angel startled, trembling minutely then pressed forward deepening the kiss. Somehow Dean ended up with his tongue in Castiel’s mouth exploring that wet cavern greedily.

 

Making a valiant effort Dean pushed away, “Come on inside before all the neighbors get a really good eyeful.”

 

The two stumbled inside and Dean firmly slid the door shut. Before he could even turn around Castiel was on him, hands tugging at Dean’s shirt. Between the two of them they got Dean half way undressed before he started working on the complicated ties that fastened the angel’s shirt around his wings. A few moments later both men were stripped to the waist and Dean drank in the sight of all that pale smooth skin adorning Castiel’s slender body. So familiar, yet so alien.

 

Their jeans were quicker and Dean tossed his trousers into the floor as Castile bent to strip his boxers off. Then they were standing together naked and Dean gloried in the feel of the warm, hard body pressed tightly against him.

 

Using one hand he began to push Castiel toward the bed room. They stumbled laughing then staggered down the hall like two drunks before managing to make inside the door. Dean guided them both to the bed, and then began pushing Castiel down to the soft surface of the bed, but the angel resisted. Dean frowned, “Cas, for what I intend to do you need to be lying down.”

 

“I’d rather not lie on my wings; I can’t move them.”

“It’s ok, there’s nothing here that can hurt you. You don’t need to fly.”

 

“Please I want to be on my hands and knees.” Castiel said uncertainly but Dean kept a steady pressure on his shoulder and the angel acquiesced slipping down on the bed wings spread beneath him. Quickly Dean caressed his chest tweaking the tiny buds of his nipples then swept his hand down to Castiel’s cock. He was please to find that the angel was hard, the small bud of flesh dripping with pre-come. Groaning Dean grasped his own dick then reached for the angel’s hand, “Here Cas, touch me. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

 

Reaching between the angel’s legs Dean stoked his cloacae, feeling a thick slippery fluid ooze over his fingers. Taking a deep breath he pressed the tip of his finger inside feeling Castiel stiffen around it. “Just relax its okay. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

 

Once Castiel had relaxed under his hand Dean slipped another finger in. The angel opened to him easily and soon Castiel was moaning in pleasure as Dean’s fingers fucked into him in a steady rhythm.

 

Pulling his fingers out Dean was rewarded by a displease hum then Castiel glanced up at him as Dean positioned himself between the angel’s legs and thrust up and into him with one long motion. Both men groaned together Castiel raised his legs wrapping them around the scientist waist and Dean began moving, thrusting his hips with a vigorous snapping motion. Leaning forward Dean could feel the hard knot of Castiel’s dick digging into his belly, and Castiel purred when Dean pressed forward giving him more friction as he thrust in and out of the angel’s body.

 

The angel came first with a shouted exclamation, and then he reached up tugging until Dean leaned forward pressing kisses to Castiel’s opened mouth. Dean grunted pulling out then thrusting back in until his balls slapped against the angel’s ass. With a shout Dean climaxed spurting long and hard into his partner’s body.

 

Dean dropped heavily onto Castiel’s chest rolling off as soon as the angel’s breathing became labored. Castiel uttered a sleepy grunt rolling onto his left side, wings handing limply off the side of the bed. Dean grinned, “I guess it’ll take some getting used to sleeping with someone who has wings.”

 

He closed his eyes but quickly cast a sideways glance at his bed partner when Castiel sighed heavily, “Dean Doctor Adler may have given us this few short days...”

 

“Whoa, hold up Cas,” Dean objected raising a hand, “I don’t even want to think about Zach when I’m naked, let alone so thoroughly fucked out. We’ll deal with that later, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Castiel said simply, and then he settled down eyes falling shut. When his breathing evened out Dean assumed that the angel was asleep. He had no idea what Castiel’s sleep requirements were or how the angel usually slept, in the bed on a perch like a hen at roost? He giggled a little nervously to himself. Rolling onto his side he stared long and hard at the angel’s face, but Castiel’s remained oblivious, heavily asleep. Dean fell back on the bed, letting sleep overcome him as well.

 

&&&&&&

 

The harsh strains of Led Zeppelin drew Dean from his sleep. Rolling over Dean tugged his arm out from under the angel’s still slumbering form shaking the pins and needles out of it before grabbing his phone.

 

Sam’s voice on the other end caused him to roll out of bed staggering to the door.  “I wasn’t sure if you were awake,” Sam began with preamble and Dean snorted.

 

“Well I am now.”

 

“Don’t be a jackass, Dean. Jessica and I are on the PCH. We’re coming down.”

  
“What? Why?” dean managed as he bent over scrabbling under the bed to retrieve his boxers.

Finally he tucked the phone under his chin and hopped around the room as he drew his underwear over his hips before hurrying out into the hall. Leaning against the wall Dean pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “What got you drawers in a knot, Sammy?”

 

“It’s a real shitstorm, Dean. You’d better keep that _thing_ out of sight.”

 

“I’ve told you Cas isn’t a thing, Sammy. He’s a person just like you or me.”

 

“Well, you’d better hope so. Zachariah Adler is dead.”

 

“What!”

 

Castiel rolled over startled from his sleep by Dean’s loud exclamation in the hallway outside the bedroom door.  Rubbing his eyes the angel rolled over grabbing for his underwear handing precariously off the corner of the nightstand beside the bed. His boxers slipped the thin cotton fluttering down to hang off the edge of an open drawer.  Uttering s dismayed grunt Castiel reached down plunging his hand into the drawer to capture the errant garment but he jerked back gasping in pain. His finger was bleeding.

 

Bending over the side of the bed the angel gently tugged the drawer all the way over looking at what might have cut his hand. A gleaming sliver picture frame lay in the bottom of the drawer. The shattered glass of the front glittered in small heaps around the black velvet back of the frame. Casting a shrewd look at the still vacant door of the bedroom the angel picked up the picture.

 

There in front of him Castiel cradled the shatter picture careful not to let the broken shards of glass touch his skin. The photograph was several years old if the wrinkles and torn edges were anything to judge by, and the once pristine silver of the frame was starting to varnish in some places. Castiel frowned at the image of two men standing shoulder to shoulder. One of them was clearly Dean. Castiel knew very well. The other man caused the angel to pause. He had seen that face every morning in the mirror as he shaved, ever since he had woken up and looked at himself for the very first time some few months ago.

 

Except the man in the photograph had no wings.

 

When he looked up again Castiel was chagrined to see Dean standing in the door way with a black scowl on his face.

 

“Who is this, Dean?”

 

But the other man waved him off, turning around quickly and stalking back into the hall. Castiel could hear him muttering curses at the man on the other end of the phone line. A man the angel presumed was Dean’s brother.

 

“What the hell are you talking about, Sam. How can Zach be dead?”

 

“Apparently the angels are nearly as docile as you believe. I guess from what I’ve heard on the news this morning, Lucifer killed him, a tried to lead the others in some kind of revolt. They got as far as downtown LA before the LAPD got them. Any way now Raphael and Uriel are dead, and Michael and Lucifer are in the central precinct for booking. The small one…Gabriel is missing and nobody knows where Castiel is.”

 

“I don’t get it,” Dean said. “Zach was pretty tough on the discipline. They were all afraid of him.”

 

Sam snorted, “Not afraid enough. I don’t know what type of birds you used in making them, but these ‘angels’ are dangerous, Dean.”

 

“Not Cas. He isn’t like that Sammy. I might have used eagles and hawks for the others. But Cas is part owl, a Snowy Owl, just a baby one.  It’s why his wings are white.”

 

 

 “Owls are predators too. Watch him Dean; Castiel is just as dangerous as the others. They’re all natural born killers. And it’s too late. When this gets into the mainstream news people are gonna ask questions. They’re gonna come to you for answers, Dean. I hope you have them.” Sighing Sam’s voice faded as he leaned away from the phone to speak to Jessica, and then back again to Dean. “We’re stuck on the Highway One for another hour. Whatever you need to do get it done.”

 

When Dean punched the button to end the call Castiel was standing in the door to the bedroom holding the damaged picture out to Dean. The scientist glared, “Put that away.”

 

“Why? Was I not supposed to see it? Who is he Dean? Why does he have my face?”

 

“Why don’t you ask why you have his face? He was here before you.”

 

“Is that what I am a replacement, for him? Did he die? Is that how you got the material to make me, from some poor dead…?”

 

Whirling Dean slapped Castiel hard across the face. The sound cracked in the still morning air, echoing around the small room. Castiel gasped dropping the frame on the floor where the few remaining shards of glass tinkled against the wood. Dean flinched.  “Get dressed. My brother and his wife are driving down from Palto Alto. I’m gonna go get some coffee and pastries at the bakery down the street. Get washed and dressed. A lot is going on, and we need to be prepared.”

 

Pulling on his jeans and a tee-shirt from the dresser, Dean seized his phone and wallet hurrying out the door.

 

Castiel stood in the center of the hallway staring at the shattered remnants of the photograph before pulling his own jeans on and marching to the patio doors leading out into the back yard. Once outside the angel stretched his arms over his head before unfurling his wings and shaking them violently. For the first time he wished that he could actually fly. But that wasn’t to be. Like so many other things Castiel was just a poor imitation of an angel, grounded and without power.

 

As the angel stalked angrily around the small yard the patio door on the house next to Dean’s small bungalow opened and the dog came trotting out. She took one look at the angel and erupted in a flurry of violent yapping. Charging the fence the small animal threw herself at the chain link with fury.

 

Castiel hissed wings flaring. With fire in his eyes the angel stalked across the yard grasping the dog by the collar hauling her over the fence where she dangled whining and snapping. A quick vicious twist of his wrist and the dog’s neck snapped. Furiously Castiel dug him fingers into the thick golden fur on the animal’s back ripping pelt from skin. Blood flew from the carcass painting the angel’s face and he licked at his bloody fingertips.

 

Finally, Castiel gave into his instincts ripping at the dog’s body, tearing huge chucks of flesh out and shoving them into his mouth. He growled, filling his belly with dark, red meat. Finally, the angel staggered away from the fence dropping into a chair eating his fill.

 

Dean strode to the end of the driveway before common sense overtook him. Scrubbing a hand over his face the scientist turned back to the house. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? He had meant to tell Castiel about the photographs, hadn’t he? He’d meant to tell the angel all about Jimmy, but in his own time. Now they might be torn apart before they even had the chance to try to get together.

 

Turning Dean trudged back up the driveway and let himself into the house. “Cas,” he called, but the front room was empty. Quickly Dean turned walking back to the bedroom, but it too was devoid of life.

 

Frowning he started to call out before noticing the patio door to the backyard was opened. He could hear shuffling sounds on the back patio. With a relieved sigh Dean walked out the door, pulling to a halt. The scene before him horrified Dean. Castiel was hunched over the now silent body of the tiny dog from next door. As the scientist watched the angel reached out shredding the skin and fur off the animal’s carcass. As he turned around Castiel wiped at the blood smearing his face before tearing off another chunk of flesh stuffing it into his mouth. He hissed as Dean as the other man stepped forward. The smell of the dead animal nauseated the scientist.

 

Dean retched as he watched Castiel tearing strips of flesh off the dog’s carcass. The other man paused shooting Dean a confused glance, and then he shoved the meat into his mouth with bloody fingers. Taking a step forward the scientist raised a hand and Castiel stilled. Then he shrieked angrily wings stiffening in an agitated threatening gesture.

 

“My God Cas, what have you done?”

 

Swallowing heavily, Dean drew to a halt, not moving forward, but with his hands still raised in a placating gesture. Castiel cocked his head, a tiny frown playing over his lips, “What do you mean?”

 

“How could you have killed Chibi?” Dean asked quietly. “She might have been a little bitch, but she was harmless.”

 

Now Castiel looked annoyed and angry. He waved one hand at the dead dog lying at his feet, “I was hungry and you weren’t here. I had to get my own food.”

 

Dean grabbed the smaller figure by the arm, shaking him furiously. “Dogs are not food, Cas!”

 

Jerking his arm away Castiel whirled stalking toward the human, “Meat is meat, Dean. I am only doing what comes naturally to my kind. What did you think was going to happen? I’m only doing what I was made to do Dean. “

 

Shooting the other man a look Castiel raised a bloody hand swiping his claw tipped fingers across Dean’s shoulder. Dean staggered back his other hand coming up to clutch at the wound. Castiel leaned in watching blood drip from beneath the other man’s fingers, “I’m only what you made me, Dean.”

 

The End


End file.
